


Spaghetti

by Sayuri_no_Hanataba



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: Childhood/Old Days, Humour, M/M, PH Month, PH Month: Fourth Week, Pandora Hearts Month, Pandora Hearts Month: Fourth Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 20:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12218142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sayuri_no_Hanataba/pseuds/Sayuri_no_Hanataba
Summary: "...There was really something wrong with him if he enjoyed watching another human eat, and found that said human to be adorable while eating." Pre-Abyss Ozbert with a post-Abyss sequel in chapter 2!





	1. Chapter 1

Cute.

Absolutely cute.

It was ridiculous to a certain degree, yes, but it was still cute.

Oz's gleaming emerald eyes watched, with badly concealed interest, Gilbert's every single move.

It was currently lunch time and today's main course was Spaghetti – under Oz's insistence – complete with large, succulent meat balls and a generous topping of creamy cheese that simply melted in your mouth. Oz's mouth was practically watering by the time the kitchen staff had set down the silver platters before each occupant at the table. Once again, it was just Oz, Ada and Gil. On some days they would be joined by Uncle Oscar, but he was currently out of town accompanying his brother on a business trip.

Ada had wasted no time and dug right in and Oz would've followed suit had he not spotted Gil staring down at his plate as if it were bringing him great misery.

At first Oz wasn't unduly worried. When Oz had told Gil that he was to eat all meals on the same table and at the same time as himself, Gil looked right about ready to faint before throwing a tantrum about how a lowly servant like him couldn't _possibly_ dine in the same manner as the master. This went on for quite a while and Gil would always wear the exact same face as the one he was sporting now whenever he arrived at the table.

But then Oz remembered that he had finally convinced Gil that it was okay for his personal valet to dine within a ten meter radius _and_ at the same time as his master about a week after that incident. Gil couldn't possibly be having doubts _now_ , a month later. So what was the problem?

"Gil? What's wrong?" he had asked.

And that's when Gil, through great difficulty and an unhealthy dose of embarrassment, had confessed that he had no idea what the thing in his plate was or how to eat it. It was understandable, since it was the first time they were served spaghetti since Gilbert became his valet. Even if he did have the memories of his past life, spaghetti wasn't exactly a common dish in these parts so only the high class ate it and both boys were sure of one thing; Gil couldn't possibly have been from a rich family. They would've been searching for him day and night if he was, but no search parties were ever seen roaming the streets.

So here they were now, minutes later. Ada was already half done with her meal; an incredible feat considering that the girl was secretly playing with the kittens on her lap concealed under the elaborate table cloth. Oz, on the other hand, had barely taken a few bites out from his own plate for he was glued to the sight of Gil attempting to eat spaghetti for the first time in his life.

Gilbert dug his fork in the mound, following Oz's earlier example and swirled it around to spread the sauce, then shifted his grip to the end of the fork. He twirled the fork a few times, picked it up and brought it up to his lips – clueless, Oz noted – to the long strands of spaghetti trailing below the fork which simply made Oz shake his head in amusement. Oz himself had mastered the art of spaghetti-twirling when he was very young, so it was natural for him to find smug amusement in Gilbert's inexperience. Then, Gil must've noticed the trailing strands for in the next moment, he quickly pushed the sizable forkful of spaghetti into his mouth in fear that it would all slide off.

Oz watched with fascination as Gilbert's tongue darted out by a fraction every other second or so as he tried to pull in the rest of the spaghetti into his mouth; his bright golden eyes focused on the long strands as if it were the only thing in this universe apart from him, simply to avoid eye contact while doing what he assumed to be the embarrassing task of eating spaghetti for the first time. Oz knew that Gil was probably embarrassed because of the light tings of pink dusting the younger boy's cheeks, and he couldn't help but find the way his lips seem to form a pout adorable.

...There was really something wrong with him if he enjoyed watching another human _eat_ , and found that said human to be adorable _while_ eating.

Finally, the trail was gone, allowing Oz to get a clear view of the suddenly very alluring sight of Gil's gleaming lips. The usually rosy pink skin was glazed with a thin layer of tomato sauce, making them appear a sunnier reddish shade. Then Oz noticed a bit of the aforementioned sauce on the younger boy's cheek, and he chuckled.

"Gil?"

Gil snapped his head towards Oz's direction, looking for all the world like a deer caught in the headlights of some fast approaching vehicle, which made Oz chuckle again. The blond-haired boy leaned forward, wiped the sauce off with his index finger and promptly licked it off before grinning at his servant, who was starting to turn as about as red as the tomatoes that probably sacrificed their life in order to make the very sauce that Oz had just wiped clean.

And as Gil just sat there, slack-jawed and at a loss for words, Oz simply laughed some more.


	2. Chapter 2

Oz and Gil were currently lounging around in Gil's apartment, enjoying a comfortable silence while both males drank their post-dinner tea. Oz was on one end of the sofa, taking tiny sips at of his tea while his eyes wandered aimlessly. Gilbert was on the other side of the sofa reading a book, not averting his eyes for even a second as he brought the steaming cup to his lips. He did however, look up every now and then just to gaze at Oz fondly.

 _"Ah~"_ he would think each time, _"He looks like so endearing like that; like an overly-curious, innocent boy."_ Then, _"Innocent my foot. I should stick with just 'overly-curious'."_

Sometimes Oz would glance in Gil's direction too, causing their eyes to meet for the briefest of moments. Gilbert would look away immediately, after which a tinge of sadness would blossom in his chest. Why could he not gaze at Oz openly without fearing that the young boy would catch him in the act? Why did he have this constant dread that if Oz were to see into his eyes for too long, he would be able to read them and thus understand the reason behind all of Gil's wistful glances? Thankfully his attention would soon be drawn back to the book in his hand, allowing him to temporarily forget his woes.

Though he seemed to be idle, Oz's mind was a whirlwind of activity. Every now and then he would spot a familiar object in the room they were in which led to Oz thinking about events from the past surrounding that object. One thought led to the other until the only thing in his mind were random memories of himself and a younger Gil.

Oblivious to Gilbert's watchful eyes, Oz felt his lips stretch into a warm smile at the fond memory of Gil eating spaghetti for the first time. It had been about five years since that day (nearly fifteen years for Gil, he reminded himself) but the memory was still fresh in his mind as if it had happened only yesterday.

Before Gilbert could enquire about Oz's sudden change of expression, the latter's stomach rumbled quite audibly.

Oz felt his cheeks redden.

He knew that spaghetti had always been his favourite meal, but he and Gil had just had dinner an hour ago! How could he possibly be hungry _again_? At that point he prayed with all his might that his sharp servant hadn't heard that...

...Which he probably did. Oz looked away bashfully when he felt Gil's eyes upon him, thus missing the older man's kind smile which soon followed.

"Would you like something to eat, Oz?"

_"Aaah, don't say it out loud, stupid! That just makes it more embarrassing."_

Oz pretended to clear his throat, snuck a glance towards Gil then nodded. Gilbert quietly shut his book, placed it on the sofa and stood up.

"What would you like?" he asked, while gathering his empty tea-cup and saucer. Oz quickly finished the rest of his tea in two big gulps – it had cooled down considerably by now – before handing his cup to Gil as well. After some contemplation, Oz thought of the perfect dish and grinned.

"Spaghetti! I want to try Gil's spaghetti."

Gil was a tad bit surprised. "That's fine with me, but... It's not exactly a complicated dish so it'll probably taste like any spaghetti you've ever eaten."

Oz shook his head. "No, I'm sure it'll be great because _you're_ the one making it. Gil's got magical hands when it comes to food!" And then, he added in a breathless murmur so that Gil wouldn't hear, "Just like the perfect cooking wife~"

Gilbert blushed at the audible comment, unsure of what to say. He was always like that whenever Oz graced him with compliments. They were always just so unexpected yet heartfelt that they caught Gil completely off guard. But that wasn't to say that Gil didn't like them. In fact, he loved them.

Well, actually that wasn't the only thing he loved...

Instead of responding to Oz, Gilbert quietly left for the kitchen, leaving Oz to entertain himself using his own devices. Half an hour later when Gil re-emerged from the kitchen he would discover that Oz had decided to read the same book that he had been reading; an old volume of Holy Knight.

"I just can't help but be overwhelmed by these books," explained Oz when he spotted his servant setting the dining table. "I've read the old volumes so many times before, and yet it always feels like I'm reading it for the first time all over again when I re-read them."

When the table had been set, Oz placed the book down and skipped over to the table where Gil had drawn the chair for him, waiting. Once seated, Oz automatically reached out for the napkin.

 _"It's amazing,"_ thought Gilbert, _"how Oz has more table manners as a boy than that Stupid Rabbit ever will as a girl."_

"Gil, it looks awesome!" exclaimed a delighted Oz, as he observed his plate. It was astounding how Gil could make such a simple dish look so appetizing. There was a generous heap of spaghetti for someone who only wanted an after-dinner snack, topped with an even layer of rich tomato sauce. On top was a moderate snowfall of mozzarella cheese, just the way Oz liked it. And finally, his favourite part; sitting on top of it all in a neat little circle were five juicy meatballs.

"Thank you, Oz," he said, bowing slightly. Gilbert then turned to leave so that his Master could dine in peace, but was stopped by a hand on his sleeve. He looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow in Oz's direction.

"Eat with me~" he said simply.

"Eh?" It took a few moments for Oz's words to actually register and when they did, Gilbert felt his cheeks burn. "EH?!" Oz chuckled, clearly amused at his servant's discomfort. Eventually Gil found the voice to speak properly. "U-um, I only made enough for you s-so I'm afraid I'll have to decline," he mumbled with averted eyes.

Oz was not to be deterred so easily. "Gil, you've got more than one fork in this house, right?"

"O-of course!"

"Then go get it," answered Oz as if it were the simplest command in the world, which it was. "There's a lot of spaghetti here. I'll need help finishing it."

Gilbert knew he couldn't argue with that, or Oz in general. The boy didn't take kindly to his orders being ignored and Gil didn't want to provoke his master's more sadistic side at any. With a dramatic sigh of defeat and slumped shoulders, Gilbert dragged himself to the kitchen where he retrieved another fork and made his way back to Oz.

It was only then, when he was seated next to the blond boy's right did he realise that he had forgotten to get an extra plate too. Oz seemed to know what was going through his servant's mind, for he said, "It's okay Gil, we'll just eat from the same plate."

"Absolutely not!" cried Gil, which earned him a dejected pout from Oz. "Eh? Why not?

"B-because," began Gilbert, trying to form a coherent sentence. "Because, you know."

"What? I'm afraid I don't know anything," countered Oz, biting back a grin. Gil's reactions were always so interesting to watch.

"It's embarrassing," muttered Gil, before saying in a much louder voice, "Anyway, I'll just go get another plate."

"Oh no you won't," corrected Oz as he grabbed hold of his servant's sleeve again. "The spaghetti's getting cold and I'm hungry." Then, as if to emphasize his point, Oz stuck his fork into the edge of the mound, twirled it expertly and took a bite. Oz had more to say but he was so distracted by the taste of Gil's marvellous spaghetti that all thoughts went right out the window.

"Mmm~" he hummed, allowing the rich taste and texture to simply wash over his senses. The spaghetti was made smoother by the sauce, which had a nice tanginess to it that went well with the lightly salted cheese that was already beginning to melt in his mouth.

It was like a piece of Heaven on a fork.

 _"How on Earth did Gil manage to make it so_ tasty _? He really does have magical hands. Anything he makes is amazing, even if it's just a sandwich."_

Gilbert felt his cheeks warm up for the third time night before looking away awkwardly. Did Oz _have_ to make such a blissful expression? And the sound. He knew it was wrong misinterpreting an innocent sound, but then again, Oz could make _anything_ sound naughty without even trying. Or maybe it was just Gil's own mind perceiving it that way...?

Oz, unaware of Gil's little mental debate, immediately took a second bite which led to a third, fourth, fifth bite. By now Gil had noticed that Oz was in his own little world and immediately felt less self-conscious than he had before. He twirled the fork between his thumb and index fingers, staring at it intently for a bit before stealing a glance at Oz, who was still in bliss.

 _"...Oh, why not? I am feeling a little peckish"_ thought Gil as he carefully poked his fork at the other side of the mound of spaghetti, completely opposite to where Oz's fork was working on. After rolling it around a bit, Gil brought the fork back up to his lips. Oz was taking in all this from the corner of his eye, noticing how Gil had improved greatly in the art of spaghetti-twirling (though he still wasn't a pro, like Oz). He would have smiled proudly at his servant had his mouth not have been occupied elsewhere. Instead, he gently pushed the plate a little closer towards Gil so that the plate was in between them.

Gilbert was sitting upright with an expressionless look on his face, calmly working through the spaghetti without incident at which Oz pouted at. Gil had been much cuter that first time with an anxious look on his face, glistening eyes and quivering hand while he ate. But he wasn't all that different, Oz realised after some more observation. His servant still kept his gaze averted the whole time and tried to be as discreet as possible with his presence, deliberately taking his time eating because he was probably thinking something along the lines of "the meal was intended for Oz, not me. Make sure he eats his fill!"

They were almost done with their meal when it happened.

Gilbert was forced to lean forward as he sucked in a particularly long strand of spaghetti, and Oz found himself having to do the same. When Gil happened to glance towards Oz and noticed how close he suddenly was, he flushed in embarrassment and quickly swerved his eyes away from the younger boy as if he were blinding him, trying to find anything to look at but his Master. Eventually his eyes landed on the furthest wall to his right, and he stared at it with such intensity that he could've bored a hole into it.

Since Gil had tied his hair back earlier, Oz had a clear view of his face that would've been hidden at their current angle. To Oz, it looked as if Gil had suddenly reverted back to his younger self; desperately trying to avoid eye contact with a rosy blush on his face and an aura that simply _screamed_ 'embarrassed'. His eyes then focused on Gil's lips, which looked strangely tantalizing all of sudden. It was probably because of the way they were a bit puckered, like a pout- no, like a kiss, which led Oz to realise that his lips probably looked the same. He spaced out then, oblivious to his colouring cheeks because the only thing his unfocused eyes could register were how close Gil's lips were.

And then they were on his.

Both males went absolutely rigid.

Seconds passed, but neither moved. Both could only stare into the other's wide eyes, hear the deafening sound of their pounding hearts, and feel strong warmth emanate from each other's flaming cheeks as well a foreign yet soft pair of lips on their own.

And then Gil was the first to react. He bit down on the strand in his mouth while simultaneously turning away from Oz. The latter was too shocked to move, but he at least had enough awareness to swallow before his jaw dropped.

 _"W-w-w-w-we just- we just kissed!"_ was probably what was running through both their minds at that moment.

Gil had turned around earlier, to see just how much of that infinitely long strand of spaghetti there was left when he felt Oz's lips on his. At first he couldn't understand it but eventually he realised that apparently through some unbelievable luck, he and Oz had gotten the same strand of spaghetti. Somehow neither of them realised it until... Until...

Gilbert brought his hands up to shield his burning face in mortification. _How?!_ How was it possible that they had gotten the exact same strand of spaghetti? It was a one-in-a-million chance! How had they not _noticed_? And wasn't that kind of thing only supposed to happen in fiction?!

He was also scared. Technically, he had just stolen his Master's first kiss (that Stupid Rabbit was only forming a contract for the greater good! Nothing more!). Oz had never kissed anyone before he was sent to the Abyss, and he certainly didn't have time to go around kissing people once he returned. Would he be furious, then? Would Oz be furious that a lowly servant like himself had taken away something so precious? Not to mention that the servant was a twenty-four-year-old male.

Oz was also having an internal turmoil of his own. He was worried that Gilbert would be mad at him. Well, it was unlikely that Gil could actually get mad but at the very least things would become very awkward. What if Gil started avoiding him? Or what if he really did get mad...? Because why would Gil want to kiss a boy that was ten years younger than him; a boy whom he was bound to serve?

Oz knew that Gil probably liked him a bit more than a servant, or even a friend should. He was vaguely aware of it ever since they were both the same age. That thought alone made a comfortable warmth bloom within him, and eventually it led to Oz having feelings for his servant as well. But ten years had passed for Gil, and ten years was more than enough time for any amount of feelings to wither and die... That is, if there were any in the first place.

_"...I should've let him get the plate."_

Then, while Gil was the first one to react, Oz was the first one to recover as a thought struck him.

_"Wait. Gil didn't run away screaming or anything... Did that mean that... Th-that he didn't mind the kiss?"_

Oz didn't want to keep his hopes up but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed very likely. If Gil hadn't liked the kiss than the most expected course of action he would've taken was flee. The fact that he was still there meant that he was waiting for... For something.

_"Well, if that's the case..."_

Oz smiled devilishly.

"Oh, Gil~?" he called, in a sweet, singsong voice. Gilbert hesitantly removed his hands, but they still hovered near his face. He tilted his head towards Oz questioningly.

At that point, Oz noticed a bit of sauce near Gil's mouth and his grin couldn't have gotten any wider.

_"Oh, this is too easy."_

As for how Gil was _still_ a clumsy eater after all these years and how his hand hadn't wiped away that miraculous bit of sauce, he would never know. But hey, he wasn't complaining since it was actually in his benefit.

With his grin – which was starting to look more like a smirk really – still in place, Oz reached forward to cup Gil's chin and pulled his face closer while leaning forward himself at which Gil reddened once more. Then, he wiped the bit off sauce off with the side of his thumb before leaning in a bit more and slipping the digit into his mouth, making sure to shoot a deliberate glance up at Gil as he briefly sucked the sauce off.

This was the test; to confirm if Gil indeed had any feelings for Oz. If Gil got up and ran away now or showed any signs of disgust... Then Oz would stop here and apologise to him. However, Oz's heart swelled with joy when he realised that Gil had no intention of moving a muscle. In fact, he was absolutely glued to the sight of Oz.

Oz slowly pulled back from his thumb, gave a short lick to the area where he had wiped the sauce off near Gil's mouth, then moved his lips over Gil's. A muffled gasp escaped from the older male and slowly, Oz parted his mouth a bit to give way to his tongue which licked off the thin layer of sauce on Gil's lips in a slow, teasing manner.

When the notion to kiss back finally manifested itself in Gil's head, Oz coincidentally decided to release his servant's chin while breaking the link between their lips. The blond slid back onto his own seat then gave his own lips a slow lick as well. When he was done, he shot an innocent grin towards Gil, who seemed to have muttered something that suspiciously sounded like 'not fair'.

"I can't believe Gil is still a messy eater after all these years~" said Oz, as if giving an explanation for all he had just done.

"I am not!" blurted a red-faced Gil, whose facial complexion was finally starting to return to its original colour.

"Well then, care to explain why there was a bit of sauce on your face?" asked Oz in amusement.

Gilbert opened his mouth to respond, but promptly closed it again when nothing came to mind. He thought hard for about a minute, after which Oz began to chuckle lightly. Gil noticed that Oz was laughing _at_ him and spluttered in embarrassment.

"Oh, I've had it!" he said at last, though it was more out of embarrassment than anything else and stood up to leave. However, he was brought to a halt when he felt a hand on his sleeve for the third time that night. Oz never gripped it all that hard but to Gil it always felt like someone had tied an anchor to his wrist and tossed it into the sea. Gil was helpless to Oz's pull. He could never fight against it.

"No, please don't leave," said Oz, trying his best to sound sincere. He was having a hard time since he still had yet to wipe the grin off his face. "We're still not done eating either."

"You can finish it. I'm not hungry anymore," muttered a moody Gilbert.

Oz sighed, before yanking at Gil's sleeve. Gilbert flailed his free arm as he tried to maintain balance but alas, luck was not on his side. He fell back awkwardly onto Oz's lap with his back pressed up against the boy's chest; Oz's arms were waiting, and they gently wrapped themselves around Gil's upper arms in a warm embrace to keep him steady.

For a fifteen-year-old boy, he was quite strong.

"I'm truly sorry Gil," said Oz honestly with a sweet smile on his face, before pressing a kiss next to Gil's mouth when the older man turned to look at Oz. "I really want you to stay. Forgive me?" And then he put on the best kicked-puppy face he could muster, just in case Gil was feeling particularly stubborn tonight.

As expected, Gil couldn't resist. His scowl crumbled, his expression immediately lightened and Oz could feel the man's muscles relax.

"Oh Oz, please don't apologise! There's no way I could ever be angry at you, you know that. Of course I'll stay."

Oz's usual cheerful expression was back within a second. "Great! Now, let's finish eating."

Gilbert nodded before he realised something and colour returned to his cheeks. "Um, I need to go back to my seat s-so, you can let go now," he mumbled.

Oz rolled his eyes but let go of Gil nevertheless. "Geez Gil, you really act like a girl sometimes."

"I am not a girl," he responded testily, before adding, "nor do I act like one."

Oz simply sniggered. "Right, whatever you say."

Both males picked up their forks, ready to resume their meal. It was then when Oz noticed something.

He poked his fork into a lonely meatball then turned to Gil with an innocent smile while holding his fork up at the man's direction. "So, my Lady, may I offer you the last meatball?"

Gilbert groaned and dropped his fork. "I am _not_ a lady!"


End file.
